


For Want of a Diamond

by GemmaRose



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, BAMF Guardians and Pitch, Gen, Psychological Torture, Torture, grownups can be dicks, jack is a victim
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-23
Updated: 2013-09-11
Packaged: 2017-12-21 03:33:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/895290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GemmaRose/pseuds/GemmaRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the rare occasion that Jack cries, his tears become beautiful jewels. He's never seen the point in keeping them, so over the centuries he's given them to kids he thinks deserve something pretty. Unbeknownst to him, these jewels become extremely valuable because of their rarity. There's a plethora of myths surrounding them, but nobody knows how to find more. That is, until little Sophie tells the whole world that her pendant came from Jack Frost himself.</p><p>de-anon from rotg-kink</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It had never been easy to make Jack cry, and each spirit who knew him had simply assumed it was a side effect of being a winter sprite. Only a small handful knew the deeper reason, as well as the truth of where a handful of exquisite pendants had cropped up from over the years. Very few knew why Jack only ever cried in the middle of the ocean, and none of those informed were Guardians.

Jack had been too elated to notice when it fell that Easter midnight in Jamie's room, and it had been Jamie who found what looked like a glass tear under his desk a week later. It caught the light like a tiny diamond, and even after five minutes in his hand it was pleasantly cool to the touch. So of course he took it outside to his newest friend who knew about everything cold. Jack gave the boy a light rap on the forehead and told him to consider it a gift of gratitude, tucking it in Jamie's pocket before proceeding to dump snow on his head. An hour or so after dragging himself inside, he'd managed to glue it to a metal shoelace-ring pulled from a too-small sneaker without a mate, and less than ten minutes later it was hung around Sophie's neck on the very same black shoelace.

\-----

Sophie shifted nervously in the hard-backed seat, reaching up to wrap her tiny hand around the necklace she'd come to think of as her own personal good luck charm. Her mom had managed to give the mysterious glassy pendant a proper setting, and for the past five years it had hung on an eight-dollar silvery chain around her neck. The lights were bright and hot, and her mind raced a mile a minute as the other contestants took their turns at the microphone.

Her turn came, and she didn't let go of her necklace until she heard the approval. The words got harder, and it seemed hardly any time at all before she stood side by side with a black boy about a year older than her. His name tag said Jamal, but she didn't focus on anything more because he'd just slipped up. Her nails bit into her palm around the pendant, and she lifted her chin as if she could see the audience beyond the blinding lights. If she pretended hard enough, she could almost see her mom and Jamie in their front row seats. Jamie's pants would be all wrinkled and his eyes would be wide. Her mom would be doing her best not to lean forward nervously, squeezing at the little black purse she always wore. Sophie gave a small smile, and silently thanked Jack for using weird old words before opening her mouth.

"Aphaeretic, A-P-H-A-E-R-E-T-I-C, Aphaeretic." She grinned triumphantly and looked to the three grown-ups who sat off to the side, looking rather shell shocked. Months, no, years of memorising words, of learning how to keep her big mouth shut when other kids asked for help and how to smile like an angel whenever she won. Every hurdle, and she'd just leapt the last of them flawlessly. National Spelling Bee champion at age 9. She let go of her pendant and scrubbed at the tears flowing down her face, smiling even wider than she had when she'd beaned Jack with a snowball so hard he actually fell over.

The next hour or two was a blur of hugs from her family and some of the other contestants, then flashes going off and fuzzy microphones being shoved in her face. Most of the questions were familiar ones, which she gave the rehearsed answers to, but then somebody noticed her necklace and suddenly everybody wanted to know where she'd gotten it. She looked up at her mom, who was smiling proudly, and after getting a nod beamed at the man with the camera. "I got it from my friend, Jack Frost!" she chirped, grinning brighter when Jamie squeezed her hand.

The man holding a microphone in front of her looked puzzled. "Jack Frost?"

She nodded. "Uh huh. He's about my brother's age, an' he's invisible unless you believe in him." she nodded once more, resolutely, and asked if the man thought her dress or her mommy's dress was prettier. Jamie snickered behind his hand at the flustered reporter as Sophie twirled, ever eager to show off her latest glittery thing and receive the compliments which followed.

After what felt like a long time but also no time at all, the men with fuzzy mics and big cameras drifted away and Sophie trailed after Jamie towards the car while their mom went to talk with another grown-up.

"That was a nice move with the reporter back there, Soph." Jamie smiled, ruffling her hair.

She giggled and made a face. "He looked silly. Does he not know about Jack?"

Jamie sighed and sat next to his baby sister. "Most grown-ups don't. If they did, it'd be a lot less boring."

"But Jack wouldn't be able to help you with tests." the girl countered with a grin.

Jamie spluttered. "Wha- I- He only helped me study, Soph! He said if I wanted to cheat, I could get Monty to text me the answers."

Sophie snorted, and her bubbly grin turned slightly pensive. "Jamie, am I pretty like mommy?"

The teen sighed and pulled the girl into his lap. "Well, not yet. We'll see about that when you grow up. But you're smart and funny already, so you know what?" he tilted Sophie's chin up until she was looking at his face hovering over hers. "That makes you prettier than mom any day." he looked over his shoulder suddenly, then back to Sophie with a secretive grin. "Don't tell her I said that, though. I want more than bread and water for dinner."

Sophie giggled and leaned her head back against Jamie's chest. The world was a big, scary place, that much she knew, but as long as she had her mom and her brother and the Guardians and her lucky necklace, she would be okay.


	2. Chapter 2

Jack leapt from tree to tree, leading his newly crafted frost-fairy through his favourite playground. Swinging up a large pine, he perched near the top and held out a finger for her to land on. She alighted clumsily, and his smile shifted from exuberant to tender. He'd crafted her out of ice and magic, and even if her design was a blatant rip-off of Tinkerbell she was _his_. She hopped from his skin and landed on a twig yet untouched by last night's snowfall, grinning when ice spread from her bare, translucent toes.

" _I did it!_ " she chimed, wings fluttering excitedly. " _Did you see that, Jack? I made ice!_ "

The newest Guardian beamed, and when she fluttered to his open palm he ran a thumb against the side of her face. As quick as he was, and tougher than diamond. "I saw." he smiled, and she hugged his thumb. It had taken ten hours in North's workshop to get her right, but maybe now that he'd figured out how...

"Hey, Wink." he smiled, lifting his hand for her to sit on his shoulder. "How would you feel about some siblings?"

She clapped her tiny hands, a sound like glasses clinking together. " _Yes_!" she rang, hopping to her feet.

Jack chuckled as she flitted around his head. "Settle down, Wink. I need to concentrate."

" _Okay._ " she smiled, settling on the twin she'd frosted earlier.

Jack reached into his pocket and withdrew a tear. One of the four he'd shed in joy after Wink proved a success. The crafting was simple enough now he knew the trick of it, and in minutes he held a tiny Sophie with butterfly wings. Setting her carefully in the crook of a branch, he crafted a copy of Thumbelina with her fairy wings. Who cared about copyright when his Helpers couldn't be seen? Thumbelina he seated next to Sophie, and the final tear he looked at for a moment.

"Wink, what type of wings would a boy-fairy have?"

She shrugged. " _Like Baby Tooth?_ "

Jack beamed. "You're brilliant, you are."

The final figure took shape faster than any of the others, and he held the Jamie-doll carefully in both his hands. Concentrating, he brought the figurine to his lips and breathed on it. "Jay." he whispered, exhaling as much magic as he could muster in that single syllable. The figureine stirred, then stretched, and he laid the newly made fairy on his knee. "Wink, meet Jay."

His first fairy landed next to her new brother, and he picked up the Thumbelina doll next. "Lina." he exhaled, beaming as she rolled onto her side. She joined Jay and Wink on his leg, and he gently lifted Sophie from her place. "Fi." he whispered, pouring the last of his energy into her name. Who cared if there weren't any snowstorms for the next day or two, he'd done it! He had created his own Helpers, like Bunny had his Sentinels and Tooth had her Fairies, he now had some Fairies of his own.

Wink flitted excitedly between her waking siblings, chattering away in her ringing-bell voice. Maybe someday he'd give his creations a voice that others could understand, but for now everything was all good. The Wind curled curiously around them, and Jack smiled as Wink showed them how to use their wings.

"I'm gonna take a nap." he told them with a smile. "Come get me at sunrise."

Wink nodded, grabbing Lina and Jay by the hand and tugging them off the branch. Jack chuckled and let the wind carry him forward, down to a snow drift at the base of a nearby tree. No Dreamsand curled over him, as it was still afternoon, but Jack slept soundly.

\-----

When he woke, he was not in the woods outside Burgess. He was in a box, an oven. A bump made his head smash against the heated metal wall, and he gasped in pain. He was in a straight-jacket, his ankles were chained tightly together, and the box was barely big enough for him let alone his staff. He could see only by the light of the dim red walls, and what he saw was far from nice. There was a single sentence carved into the metal across from him, the lines rough and shallow, like it'd been done with a knife.

**Say goodbye to your un-life.**

Another bump made him bash his head on the metal, and Jack realised he was probably in a car or truck, being taken who-knows-where. It only took three rapid heartbeats for the winter sprite to understand that he was well and truly fucked, and then another three for panic to set in. His only consolation was that his Fairies hadn't been taken with him, and that was hardly enough of a comfort to belay the fact that he was locked in a hotbox, headed for an unknown destination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the drama begins. I'll be tagging the chapters with torture by putting beginning notes, so if you don't want to see things just ignore those chapters.


	3. Chapter 3: The Whip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack is whipped.

Jack must have passed out in the hotbox, because when he woke again he was chained upright in a metal frame. Bright lights shone down on him, hotter than midsummer sun in the tropics, and he gasped for breath. He felt damp, and something smelled bad. Sweat, he realised. He was smelling sweat. Was he sweating? He couldn't recall sweating since his rebirth.

"Subject B had awoken from torpor." a feminine voice said from off to his left in a clipped, professional tone. "Experiment One shall commence in two minutes."

"Where am I?" Jack called out, voice scratchy. Had he ever been thirsty before? He didn't think so. He could remember hunger, but never thirst. His throat had never felt so dry. "Please, I can't move."

"Subject B appears disoriented, possibly dehydrated." the woman stated calmly, and Jack heard the click-clack of shoes on a hard floor. Probably linoleum, by the sound. "Experiment One shall begin in sixty seconds."

"What experiment?" Jack asked, louder this time in case she was hard of hearing. "Please, just let me go!" he tugged at his restraints, but his feeble struggles had no effect on the heavy metal cuffs. The footsteps came closer, and Jack saw a woman putting on blue latex gloves when he turned his head slightly.

"Gonzo, please hand me the implement."

A whip was placed in her hand, and Jack felt his stomach drop as she left his line of sight and walked behind him. He'd witnessed plenty of punishments in his life as a spirit, but had never been subjected to any form of pain more than clumsy crash landings. "H-hey." he called out, twisting to try and get a look at the lady with the whip. "Can't we talk this out?"

"Attempts shall be five lashes each, marked at the beginning of each. Beginning First Attempt, now."

Jack felt something heavy slap against his skin, and a line of pain burned bright along his back. It stung intensely, as did the following four. How did humans stand this, with their laughably slow healing and generally low pain tolerance? Then again, this had been one of the worst punishments that didn't end in death.

"Beginning Second Attempt." the woman stated coolly, and Jack cried out at the bite of the sixth lash. This whole being-a-prisoner thing kinda really sucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is starting out pretty simple. As chapters progress the tortures will get more complex and **much** more painful, so I'll be summarising the attempt in the chapter description.


	4. Chapter 4: Cat o' Nine Tails

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yes, I am perfectly aware that this is a type of whip, but tacking it on to the end of the original whipping felt clumsy. Also, there's a bit of blood in this chapter.

Jack woke with a groan, groggily aware of the pain of his back. He'd passed out somewhere around thirty, but from the feel of it the bitch with the whip had kept going afterwards. He was still restrained, no surprise there, and a wheely-cart was parked some yards in front of him with two pairs of blue latex gloves, a cloth-lined box, and- he blinked a few times to make sure he was seeing it properly. Nine whips attached to one handle, each whip ending in a strip of spiked metal.

"What's the new toy for?" he called as the doctors from the previous day entered, wearing oxygen masks. As yesterday, they ignored him.

"Experiment 2 to commence in sixty seconds. O2 concentration at one third sea-level, temperature steady at fifteen degrees Celcius."

Jack chuckled as the scientists donned their gloves and the man picked up the funky whip. "Won't those spikes make it hard to lay down lines?"

"Attempts shall be five lashes each, beginning First Attempt now."

It only took one strike for Jack to realise how much the spikes increased this whip's damage. He tried to arch away, only to break open yesterday's scabs. Blood dripped down his back, further saturating the underpants which had dried into an itchy brown since yesterday. Or was it earlier today? He couldn't tell without windows or a clock.

The second strike made him cry out in pain, but the breath he drew seemed too little. Wind had always made sure he could breathe. Were they taking the air out of the room? Jack tugged at his bonds, futilely attempting to break free. It would take a good few inches of ice to break these, and in this heat that'd be a challenge with his staff. Without it, absolutely out of the question, he had a hard time trying to keep the frost covering his wounds from melting.

The next three strikes came in quick succession and only centuries of willpower kept tears from clinking to the floor as he gasped for air. When he got free, he was going to turn this place into a fucking **glacier**

"Beginning Second Attempt now."

Jack would've screamed again if he had enough breath for it, but the air felt thin and his lungs were screaming. Was it even possible for him to die? Could he bleed out, or suffocate? He strained to curl his knees to his chest, and received two lashes in quick succession for his troubles. Part of him idly wondered what had happened to his clothing, but it was hard to focus as bright-dark spots swam in his eyes. The room was wavering like a river's surface, and as the Sixth Attempt began he let his head fall to his chest. Just a few minutes couldn't possibly hurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have an unholy fascination with this stuff, seriously. It'll be a few more chapters before we get to see what's happening with the others, but I promise I'll make 'em good. Poor Jack is at the top of a very long, very steep downhill slide, and things will be getting much, _much_ worse before they get better.
> 
> Number of chapters may change if certain pieces meld better than expected or refuse to mesh as planned.


End file.
